Page 49 of Sawyer

Why?

Because I am twenty-one years old, and the only home I’ve ever known is the one I share with my father in Fairbanks. My ex-boyfriend, whom my father adores, is sorry and promises never to cheat on me again. No matter what Sawyer can offer me, I can’t pass up the chance to matter to my father, the parent who stuck around when the other one abandoned me. I don’t have the strength or courage to defy his wishes. I know it, and I hate myself for it because Sawyer’s heart is beating under my ear, and with every beat it speaks of his love for me.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

When I leave Sawyer, in the quiet chaos of that separation, there will be profound anguish, as there always is when things bound to each other are torn apart. It’s going to hurt. I will be lucky to survive it.

And still, I will leave him.

“Sorry,” mutters Sawyer, turning to face me again. He kisses the crown of my head, lingering for a moment. “I know I promised. I just wish…”

“I know,” I whisper.

“Do you?” he asks.

I roll onto his body, so that my breasts are crushed against his chest. His cock stiffens beneath the thatch of curls at the apex of my thighs.

“I know,” I whisper again, wiping away a renegade tear that escapes without permission.

Live in the moment.

I sit up, with my palms flat on his chest. I lean forward, reach for his erection, then slide back, easing my pussy onto his erection. I lower my body until I am sitting on his lap with his cock buried deep inside of me.

Live in the moment.

He reaches for my hips, thrusting upward, his eyes filled with profound tenderness.

I close my eyes and lean my head back.

Live in the moment.

All too soon, it will be gone.

Chapter 6

Sawyer

Ivy stands up and pulls on her coat as soon as book club is over, skipping the pleasantries and post-discussion chit chat and heading for the door. I catch up with her in the soaring atrium, en route to the exit.

“You can stay if you want to,” she says as I fall into step beside her.

“I invited you out for a drink.”

“I know, but your family—”

“Don’t worry about them. I came separately.”

When we step outside, she pauses, taking a deep, long breath of cold air before looking up at me and smiling.

“Was it stuffy in there?” she asks, obviously relieved to be outside.

Or was it my family being snotty to her?I wonder.

Thank God for McKenna’s warmth and kindness, but I’m feeling a little ashamed of my sisters. I think I need to have a word with them about the way they treated Ivy tonight. I get it that they were witness to the way she hurt me, but I want them to give her another chance. I don’t like the way they ignored her when she walked into the conference room. I’m embarrassed, and I don’t say that about my family very often.

“My sisters were…”

“Fine,” she says. “They’re protective of you.”

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